


'Til I Fall Asleep

by somebodysmuse



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarven lullabies turn up, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Singing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodysmuse/pseuds/somebodysmuse
Summary: Two instances in which Thorin sings to the people he loves, and one instance where the favor is returned.





	'Til I Fall Asleep

It took years before Thorin sang again.

Looking back on it, Bilbo remembered Thorin singing almost often. On their unexpected (for the hobbit, anyway) journey, he remembered Thorin singing with his companions when they weren't in danger of being attacked (which was more often than Bilbo would have liked), during their nights in Rivendelle, and of course, that first night at Bag End, when Thorin filled his home, and his heart, with a fierce desire for adventure.

That was the moment when Bilbo began to fall in love with Thorin Oakenshield.

The last time Bilbo remembered Thorin singing was at the funeral.

And frankly, after everything that he had been through, after paying for Erebor with the lives of his two most precious treasures, after spending his first months as King Under the Mountain mourning instead of celebrating, Bilbo couldn't blame him.

_Bilbo followed the rest of the Company, the remaining twelve members, into the foyer of the Mountain. Sunlight shone between the pillars, small flurries of snow blew onto the floor of the same watchtower where Thorin watched Smaug fly towards his kingdom all those years ago._

_Lifetimes ago, Bilbo found himself thinking. Thorin was enduring lifetimes of grief, first the loss of his home, then his father and grandfather, then years of planning and hoping and losing, and now this. Now, the loss of the two beings he had fought desperately to protect._

_Bilbo felt his heart break for his beloved dwarf as he knelt at Fili and Kili's bedside. They were so still, laying there, side by side, every bit as inseparable now as they had been before._

Inseparable, _Bilbo observed mournfully,_ even in death.

_He heard a sob from beside him. This was exactly how the last days had been; after Fili and Kili's bodies were found, each member of the Company had broken down and wept, screaming curses at orcs and goblins and Mahal for taking them away._

_But not Thorin. He hadn't shed a tear, he spent the last days preparing his beloved nephews for burial, picking the perfect garments for each of them and adorning them with ornaments fit for princes._

_For a moment, only sobs filled the freezing air. Then there was music._

_It only took Bilbo a moment to realize that Thorin was singing in Khuzul. Despite the language barrier, Bilbo knew that it was a mourning song, a beautiful, bittersweet testament to the lives lost, of shame and redemption and pain._

_In a way, it wasn't a song at all. It was a prayer, a desperate plea to Mahal to restore what he had lost, to ease them into the next world, to guard the new, precious inhabitant of those golden halls, and to somehow ease the aching hearts left in the world of the living._

_There was no music in Thorin's voice, just pain._

_Tears burned in Bilbo's eyes._

_He knelt there for years, or maybe for only hours, and rose with the rest. When he looked around, Thorin was gone._

_"Where is..." He asked Balin, who had been beside him, "Where did- oh,"_

_He glanced around and saw Thorin's retreating back, his head bowed._

_"Someone should go after him," He said. "Someone should go after him."_

_"Go, laddie." Balin said._

_"No, I- I shouldn't, it should be-"_

_"Laddie," Balin said again, looking far too tired and sad to be arguing, "Go to him."_

Over the next months, time performed its healing, as it always does, and day by day, little by little, music returned to Thorin's soul.

The first time Bilbo heard Thorin sing was on their wedding night, three years after Erebor's redemption. Bilbo couldn't entirely remember everything about the song itself, he had been half-asleep at the time. Something about being weaved in his hair. As disappointed as he was at the missed opportunity to hear Thorin sing, he consulted himself with knowing that he would most likely hear him sing that particular number again someday, he just wasn't sure of the context.

When context arrived, Bilbo was not expecting a lullaby.

Thorin entered their chambers (extravagant chambers, of course, Bilbo had insisted that all of the fuss was unnecessary, but Thorin had insisted that nothing was too fine for his beloved husband, who was, after all, married to a king) one evening looking grave, holding a battered piece of parchment in his hands.

"Hello, love," Bilbo said, greeting his husband with a kiss. "Is something wrong?"

"Well- I think you should sit down, _ghivashel_."

Bilbo sat beside Thorin on the bed.

"What's wrong, love?" He asked again.

Thorin took a deep breath and looked at the paper in his hand. "This came today, it's- well, it's from the Shire."

"Not from Hobbiton?" Bilbo asked. "Goodness, they must have been determined to reach me. What does it say?"

"I think you should read this for yourself," Thorin said, passing the sheet to Bilbo.

"Oh," He said a moment later as he read. "Oh, dear. Oh no..." He pressed a hand to his lips, tears began to shine in his eyes. "This is...oh no..." He set the letter down and wrapped his free arm around his torso, like he needed it there so he wouldn't fall apart. "My- uh, my cousins had an accident. They've drowned."

Thorin nodded his head and reached forward, placing a hand on Bilbo's shoulder.

"They were- well, my father was quite fond of them, they were good people-" Bilbo gasped out, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "I just- it's hard to believe that they're..." Bilbo bowed his head and finally gave in to tears.

Thorin pulled the hobbit into his arms gently stroking his husband's curls while he wept, murmuring soft, comforting words and cradling him against his chest.

For a few moments, there was only silence and then sound of his own weeping.

And in a moment, there was music.

_Love and some verses you hear,_

_Say what you can't say,_

_Love to say this in your ear,_

_'I love you that way,"_

_From your changing contentments,_

_What will you choose for to share?_

_Someday drawing you different,_

_May I be weaved in your hair?_

Bilbo finished sobbing as Thorin finished his song.

"They have a child," Bilbo hiccuped. "And...and he's going to live with my cousin Lobelia, who...isn't particularly nurturing."

Thorin pressed a kiss to his husband's forehead.

"I think, well, I think that's why they wrote to me, because my parents were so fond of Frodo's parents, and maybe they thought that..." Bilbo shook his head.

"Do we need to go get him?"

"Wait, what?" Bilbo asked, looking up at Thorin.

"Do we need to go get Frodo? We could bring him here."

"Thorin, that's very- well, that's very kind of you, but-"

"Bilbo, do you love this child?"

"I've never met him. How can I love a child before I've met him?"

"Believe me, you can." Thorin said. "And can we give him a better life than Lobelia can?"

Bilbo thought of Lobelia's sharp tongue, and the many inhabitants of her unhappy house. Then he thought of Frodo.

"Do we need to go get Frodo?" Thorin asked again.

Bilbo nodded his head. Thorin smiled and brushed a stray curl out of his husband's face.

"Then I suppose we have a journey ahead of us."

Indeed, the month-long journey from Erebor back to the Shire was a long one, but not an unpleasant one, and it ended successfully. After many debates, a few bargains, and a few threats, Frodo was bestowed to him. Bilbo was appalled at the state of the child; Frodo was more like a ghost after the months of grief he had endured. Bilbo knew that Lobelia, out of spite for having another mouth to feed (not to mention the presence of her already nasty disposition), couldn't have been a source of comfort while he was away.

Once he realized that he would be going on a grand adventure, one that would end with a new home, Frodo began to smile. The hollowness in his expression abated even more with every reassurance and gesture of affection, which Thorin and Bilbo gave liberal amounts of.

Which was another pleasant surprise; not only was Thorin was every bit as gentle and kind with Frodo as his parents would have been, but he doted upon and connected with him; it warmed Bilbo's anxious heart to see them both in such good spirits. 

"You're very good with him," Bilbo said one evening as they laid out blankets on the floor of Bag End. Another nasty shock upon his return to the Shire was Bilbo's discovery that his relatives had auctioned off every knick-knack and piece of furniture in his used-to-be home. Several hobbits, many of whom Bilbo still considered to be close friends, had offered to house them for their stay, but Bilbo had insisted on sleeping in Bag End, which was, as he reminded Thorin and every hobbit who questioned him, still his, after all. Thorin remembered to bring up this instance the next time Bilbo complained of the stubbornness of dwarves.

"Is that a surprise, _ghivashel_?" He asked, reaching forward to cup his husband's cheek in his hand.

Bilbo leaned against Thorin's touch. "No, love. It's just very sweet to see the two of you."

Thorin smiled, only his blue eyes betraying his old sadness. Bilbo turned his head and pressed a kiss into his husband's palm before he went on.

"He reminds me very much of Fili and Kili when they were young." He said quietly, his gaze falling to the floor. "And when they older, now that I think about it. They were never any less of a handful." 

Bilbo smiled. "I'm very lucky to have you, then. It's nice to have an experienced caretaker."

"You're doing very well yourself." Thorin said. "Frodo adores you."

Bilbo shook his head. "I didn't think you could love a child without knowing them, but look at me. I'd do anything for Frodo, and I've hardly known him a week." He rolled his eyes playfully. "I suppose that means you were right, as always."

"Now, we both know that's not true."

They both laughed and watched the sun hide behind the horizon, covering the world in a gentle blanket of night. The two tucked Frodo into his makeshift bed, and kissed one another goodnight.

Bilbo woke a few hours later with an absence of Thorin's arms around him. In the early days of their marriage, this would trouble him, but eventually he learned that Thorin would always come back into their chambers sooner or later, bearing some token that he had fashioned in the mines or a long, thrilling story about his day as King Under the Mountain.

This time, however, Bilbo could still hear Thorin, but couldn't see him.

He also heard sniffling.

Silently, he turned to see where his husband has gone. The sight behind him warmed and wounded his heart.

Frodo was in Thorin's arms, his small shoulders shaking with sobs. One of Thorin's hands was gently massaging his dark curls, his face was full of earnest protection and selfless love.

"It's alright, little one," He murmured. "It's just a dream, you're fine now, you're safe here."

"I miss them," Frodo sobbed. "I miss them s-so much..."

"Hush, _muhudel_ ," He soothed. "I know you do, I know."

Bilbo blinked tears from his eyes, watching his two loves embrace. After a moment of silence, Thorin's soft voice filled the room, just as it had all those years ago.

_Come back, babybird_

_With your dirty wings in tatters,_

_Come home where you belong,_

_Nobody knows you better._

_Now, bring back your velvet heart,_

_And we'll make you brand new feathers,_

_Sleep through the morning light_

_With your arms around your brother._

Bilbo swore he heard Thorin's voice nearly break during the last line, but he kept singing nonetheless, with a voice every bit as strong and breathtaking as any child, no, any person, could wish for.

Bilbo loved him even more for that.

_Babybird, come back home._

_Babybird, you are never really on your own._

Frodo's sobs had abated, he was now steadily breathing in his new guardian's arms.

"You are very dear to your Uncle Bilbo and I. Do you understand that?" Thorn asked Frodo, who nodded his head immediately.

"And we're going to give you the best life we can? You understand that, as well?"

Frodo nodded again.

"Then I suppose it is time to go back to sleep." Thorin said, laying Frodo back on his blankets. "After all, we have a rather large adventure to begin tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Uncle Thorin." Frodo said sleepily.

As subtly as possible, Bilbo wiped a tear from his cheek.

"Goodnight, _Kidhuzel_." Thorin replied, bending down to kiss his pseudo-nephew’s face. He stayed at Frodo's side for a moment before making his way back to Bilbo's side, which gave him just enough time to feign sleep. He did smile when Thorin gently stroked his cheek after laying back down.

"Did I wake you, _atamanel_?" He whispered. Instead of answering, Bilbo leaned forward and gave him a long, soft kiss.

"I should wake you more often." Thorin chuckled, enveloping his husband in his arms. "Come along, come back to sleep."

"Goodnight, love." Bilbo murmured.

"Goodnight, _ghivashel_."

Bilbo drifted back to sleep remembering his child in his husband's arms, his favorite memory in the world.

The journey back to the mountains went swiftly, and soon, Erebor welcomed the newest addition to its royal family. Frodo, despite the obvious differences between himself and his peers, thrived in his new environment, and was no doubt assisted by the love of his new parents. 

It almost felt like a new beginning for the two lovers, and a new time of peace and prosper for Erebor, as if music had returned to the kingdom and planned to stay there for a good long while.

So naturally, it came as a surprise to Bilbo when he woke to the sound of sobbing one night. At first, he assumed it was Frodo, who occasionally joined them in the middle of the night when he was plagued by nightmares or just loneliness, but as sleep left him fully, he realized that the figure on the other side of the bed, the one with the long dark hair and broad, shaking shoulders, belonged to his husband.

Bilbo immediately reached out and wrapped Thorin in his arms, pulling him against his chest. 

"It's alright, my love." He said, pressing kiss after kiss on his husband's face, in his hair, and on his shoulders. "Sweet Thorin, it's alright. You're here, we're here..."

Thorin nodded his head, trying to steady his breathing.

"What was it tonight, love?" Bilbo asked. Thorin nightmared almost every night when they were first married. He woke up in a cold sweat, not remembering that he had reclaimed his home, that his love was safe in his arms, and that no orc, goblin, or dragon could harm him. Only recently had his nightmares lessened in number, and when they did happen, Bilbo knew that the best thing to do was listen and comfort in any way he could.

"I should have saved them," Thorin choked out. "They shouldn't have had to sacrifice their lives, their precious lives..."

"Darling," Bilbo murmured, gently stroking his husband's hair. "I'm sorry."

"When they were young, they would...they would be afraid to go to sleep. After their father died, they thought that they would wake and..." Thorin shook his head. "It was only worse after Dis passed away," A new wave of tears fell from his eyes. "For months, they only slept if I sang them to sleep..." 

Bilbo nodded his head. "You were very good to them, love." 

"I should have saved them." He said again.

"You did everything you could. It wasn't your fault." 

There was silence before Bilbo finally gathered enough courage to ask his burning question.

"Love, is there any chance that you're having these dreams again because...well, because we have a child, now? And you're remembering..."

Thorin was still for a moment.

"He's a very sweet lad," He said softly, reaching up to wipe his face. Bilbo caught his hands and wiped his husband's tears away himself, resting his hand against his cheek.

"I know that this must be painful for you, love," Bilbo said softly, stroking the space on Thorin's face where his skin stopped and his beard began.

"I wouldn't trade it for...for the world." He insisted. "He's your kin, and now he's our child. And what a blessing he is," He added, smiling. Bilbo smiled back.

"You're very brave." He praised, gently running his fingers through the dwarf's soft, dark tresses. "And very strong. Not to mention far too handsome for any one being to have all to themselves." Thorin laughed quietly.

"You flatter me, _ghivashel_."

Bilbo leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Sometimes, I'm sure I do. But certainly not now."

Thorin propped himself up on his elbows, pulling Bilbo in for a chaste kiss.

"Well, you managed to get me all to yourself."

"You know, I'll never understand how on earth I managed to do that."

They both laughed at this, and their laughter quickly turned into yawns.

"Come back to bed," Thorin requested.

"Frodo will want to start his day in the early hours of the morning, if I know him as well as I think I do." Bilbo nodded his head.

"Are you alright, then? Do you need anything?" He asked as he lay back down.

"Unless you could somehow convince Frodo to want breakfast after the sun peeks over the horizon, then no."

"Darling, you..." Bilbo's voice trailed off. "Alright, love. Goodnight."

"I know what you meant, and you have already done all you could do for me, _ghivashel_." Thorin insisted. Bilbo nodded his head, partially believing his husband's words. Another part of him knew that he could absolutely do one more thing to comfort his love.

In an instant, a song was on his lips, then into the air. It was a lullaby, one his mother used to sing him, a melody he hadn't even remembered remembering until just now.

_The river sleeps beneath the sky,_

_And holds the shadows to its breast,_

_The crescent moon shines dim on high,_

_And lately in the radiant West,_

_The gold is fading into grey._

_Now stills the lark, his festive lay,_

_And mourns with me the dying day._

Thorin looked down at him, his expression full of pleasant surprise.

_Thorin fell to his knees, hiding his face in the crook of his arm. Bilbo finally caught up to him, but stopped once he was behind the destroyed King._

_"Th-Thorin," he tried to say. There were tears in his voice, he hated himself for crying when Thorin, when the Dwarf he loved, was mourning so bitterly. "Oh, Thorin, please."_

_For a moment, he thought that Thorin was answering, but he couldn't understand his words._

_Then he realized that Thorin was speaking Khuzdul._

_And he wasn't speaking at all. Thorin was still singing, still sobbing out the lyrics to the mourning song that had tortured him earlier that day._

_Bilbo's already-broken heart shattered. Without stopping to think, he wrapped his arms around Thorin and held him as tightly as he could._

_After a moment, Thorin seemed to realize who was behind him. He turned and made eye contact with Bilbo. His eyes, his startling blue eyes, were red and bloodshot, full of tears and pain and pleas of "no, oh, please, don't take them away" that couldn't, and wouldn't, be answered._

_All at once, Thorin's arms were wrapped around him and he was weeping into Bilbo's chest. Broken, racking, choking sobs shook his normally sturdy frame. A storm of grief had come to torment the King._

_And Bilbo was here to make sure that, no matter the wreckage, there would always be someone there to hold him as it passed._

Thorn turned and rested his head against Bilbo's chest, laying directly on top of his heart. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

_While in the South, a first faint star_

_Lifts to the night its sliver face,_

_And twinkles to the moon afar,_

_Across the heaven's greying space_.

Bilbo wrapped his arms around his husband and kissed the crown of his head before singing the last lines of the song.

_Low murmurs reach me from the town,_

_As day puts on her somber crown,_

_And shakes her mantle darkly down._

_Sunset, the river sleeps beneath the sky,_

_Sunset._

Bilbo looked down at his husband. There was a ghost of a smile on his soft lips.

"That was beautiful." He murmured.

"You're supposed to be asleep." Bilbo chastised quietly.

"Will you teach it to me? I'd like for us to sing it to Frodo."

A lump formed in Bilbo's throat. "Of course, sweetheart." He answered. "Of course."

"Thank you, _sanâzyung_." Thorin said, nuzzling into Bilbo's chest. "I love you."

Bilbo smiled and kissed his forehead again. "I love you too."

The two drifted off to sleep, knowing that, unfortunately, they would soon be awakened by a hungry child with far too much energy for the hour of the day, and that storms would come and they would need to hold one another through them.

And, of course, that they would both be there to sing to Frodo, and to one another.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! Wow, thank you so very much for reading. Absolutely none of these songs are mine, but they are all very beautiful and deserve a listen. Here they are in order of appearance! 
> 
> Love and Some Verses by: Iron and Wine (one of my all time favorites, once I remembered the "may I be weaved in your hair" lyric, I knew it was perfect for a Dwarven love song)
> 
> Babybird by: The Wallflowers (my dad used to sing this one to me back in the day)
> 
> Sunset arranged by: Mary Lynn Lightfoot, with words by Paul Laurence Dunbar (our school choir sang this for solo/ensemble festival two years ago, and it's still one of my favorite pieces I've ever performed)
> 
> And, as you may have noticed, I went a little crazy with the Khuzdul pet names, so here is a rough translation of all those.
> 
> Muhudel (blessing of blessings)
> 
> kidhuzel – (the) gold of gold
> 
> atamanel – endearment meaning breath of all breaths
> 
> Ghivashel – treasure of all treasures
> 
> sanâzyung – perfect (true/pure) love
> 
> So, I guess, leave some Kudos and some remarks if you like what you read! Thank you all so much again, I hope you have a wonderful 2018. 
> 
> Love, Somebody's Muse


End file.
